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“Whoa. Someone must be really sick. Are you sure you got everything?” The girl at the counter, the one with spiked purple hair and a nose ring hanging out of her nostril that I feel the urge to pull, pops her gum and smirks at me. I’m pretty sure she’s making fun of me for buying what looks like all of aisle six but fuck if I don’t give a rat’s ass what she thinks.

“Well Princess, why don’t you tell me since you seem so concerned with what I’ve chosen. She may be a little sick or she may be a lot sick. I won’t know that until I see her so back up the sarcasm truck and help a guy out, huh?”

Spikey cashier girl narrows her eyes at me and pops her gum one more time. She releases a loud sigh when she sees that I’m not in the mood for her sarcastic bullshit and chews on the side of her mouth for a moment while she surveys the products I’ve chosen. She smirks and shakes her head, I think trying to stifle a laugh, and says, “A magazine.”

“A what?”

“A magazine.”

“A magazine? For what? What kind of magazine?”

“Look, when girls are sick they want to cuddle under a blanket and either sleep, watch tv, or read quietly. So go with something like People magazine.”

“Why People?” I’m intrigued by her logic.

She sighs again before she speaks. I think I’m putting a kink in her day, but I’m sort of proud of myself for it. “Okay look, if you get an Inquirer, she’ll assume you think she believes the shit they make up. If you get her In-Style magazine, she’ll assume you think she needs help in that department. Does she need help in that department?”

“Not as far as I’m concerned.”

“Okay well if you choose Cosmopolitan, you’re basically telling her you want to screw her and whether you do or you don’t, it’s just not the right choice to make for your first time.”

“Uh…this wouldn’t be my first time Princess.” I smirk.

“You’ve purchased magazines for girls before?”

“No.”

“Well then it’s your first time Mr. Magazine Virgin, so just take my advice and get People magazine. Info about celebrities, stories about real people and it’s not fully loaded with Oprah-spiration.”

Susan Renee wants to live in a world where paint doesn’t smell, Hogwarts is open twenty-four/seven, and everything is covered in glitter. An indie romance author, Susan has written about everything from lawn mowers to thick colossal bottles of wine, and has won a Snuggle Buddy award for her nonfiction book, “The Hula Hoop Tester’s Guide to Jumping.” She lives in Ohio with her family and seven tiny donkeys. She’s a Pet Whispering major from OMGU with a Masters in medical care for inanimate objects (a la Doc McStuffins). Susan enjoys crab-walking through the Swiss Alps, drinking Muscle Milk, and doing the Care Bear stare with her closest friends.